


Blame It on the Leather

by mydeira



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wes and Lilah didn't spend all of their time together inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame It on the Leather

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Savvy in a mini-challenge we gave each other. I believe I managed to work in everything: Weslah, leather, light bondage, and a telephone. Watching didn’t work so well. But there’s an ex-Watcher so that counts for something, right? Enjoy.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he had a motorcycle.  Hell, it was all in his file if she cared to look.  But in the grand scheme, such details tended to get overlooked.

 

She tightened her arms around his waist as he leaned into a sharp turn.  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to slow down, but that would sound ludicrous coming from her of all people.  Lilah Morgan frighten by too much speed?  She’d laugh if she wasn’t so terrified.

 

Almost as if reading her thoughts, Wesley sped the bike up.  The bastard was enjoying this.  He was going to pay for this.  If she lived, that was.

 

Lilah blamed the leather.  She had never been able to resist genuine Italian leather.  Especially when it fitted the form like a second skin.  Much to her embarrassment, she had almost started drooling when she’d stopped by his place that evening and found him on his way out.  If she had been able to think clearly, she would have begged off when he offered to take her along.  Bastard.

 

She felt the motor downshift beneath her.  Oh god, did she dare hope he was slowing down?

 

She opened her eyes and saw that indeed they were decelerating.  The blur on the side of the road was starting to become individual trees.

 

The bike came to a stop in a small clearing overlooking the city.

 

Wesley cut the engine.  Removing his helmet, he turned to flash her a grin.

 

Lilah did the only thing she could.  She slapped him.

 

Working his jaw, the grin returned.  “Not your speed?”

 

“You’re a maniac,” she jumped off the bike.  She worked at the buckle under her chin.  Her shaking hands fumbled at the catch, thus undermining the dramatic impact of tossing the pink helmet across the clearing.

 

She heard him laugh behind her.  Not the usual bitter, forced noise made out of habit.  No, there was something different, something she hadn’t heard before from him.  Deep, rich, and genuine.

 

“Do you find me amusing, Wes?” Lilah turned, flashing him her coldest glare.  Most men withered.  But Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was not most men.  He only laughed that much harder.

 

He dismounted from the bike with ease and strode toward her.  “Is the great Lilah Morgan actually afraid of something?”

 

When all else failed, lie.  “Don’t be ridiculous!”

 

“So you weren’t holding on for dear life back there?”

 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?  Bringing the strong woman down a peg or two?”

 

He shook his head.  “No, Lilah, what amuses me is that even when caught with irrefutable evidence, you still can’t admit it.”

 

“Admit what?”

 

“That you’re just as human as the rest of us,” his hand came to rest lightly against her cheek.

 

Lilah turned away.  “I never said I wasn’t.”

 

“Lilah, Lilah, Lilah,” he pressed close behind her, the leather and the thin fabric of her skirt doing little to hide the fact that Wesley was more than just amused by this.  She felt herself respond, pressing back.  It was the damn leather, that was all.  Her resolve was usually stronger.

 

She sighed.  What was the sense in fighting it?  She would just make herself miserable.

 

Twisting in his arms, Lilah faced Wesley, teasing the sharp tip of a nail across his lips and along his jaw.  “So, lover, how do you plan on making that ride from hell worth my time?”

 

His fingers tangled tightly in her hair, bending her neck back until it was almost painful.  Then, tongue pointed and firm, he licked a trail from collarbone to ear, where he exchanged tongue for teeth and bit down on the lobe.  She arched into him.

 

The five o’clock shadow scratched against her cheek, the sensation tingling across her skin.  Something about the coarse bristles did it for her where clean-shaven couldn’t.  Especially when he was going down on her, rutting with wild mindlessness.  She always liked a touch of pain to make her pleasure complete.

 

Not one to remain passive for long, Lilah worked a hand between them and began to undo the fly on Wesley’s pants, the leather warm and smooth against her fingers.  Slipping inside, she found him quite hard, eliciting a short hiss when she brushed against the bare flesh of his shaft.

 

His left hand, not tangled in her hair, wrapped around her wrist and pulled her out.

 

“Oh no, my dear, you don’t get to play yet,” he smirked.

 

She moved her other hand inside, but just as quickly his right hand disengaged from her hair and restrained that one as well.

 

“It seems we’ve reached an impasse.”

 

“That we have,” she agreed, trying to wriggle free.

 

“Possibly.”  Using his grip on her wrists, Wesley managed to turn her around, crossing her arms in the process.  It allowed him to pin her effectively against his chest with only one arm.  Then, using his free hand, he undid the scarf around her neck and maneuvered her hands so he could bind them together.  She was too entranced by his dexterity to struggle much, nor did she care to.

 

“Don’t you trust me to behave, Wes?”

 

He chuckled.  Lips close to her ear, he whispered, “Do you really need me to answer that?”  He turned her again, and began walking her backward until she bumped against the tree.  “Now what shall I do with you?”

 

She saw his eyes dart above her head.  Looking up, Lilah saw a length of rope hanging from a low tree branch.  Just long enough if one were to raise their arms—

 

“You planned this all along!” she exclaimed as he moved her hands above her head, looping the rope between her wrists and tying it around the bond.  He took a step back to admire his work. 

 

“I think we know who the spontaneous one is in the relationship,” he smirked, watching as she tested her bonds.

 

Lilah found she had a couple inches of movement in any direction and that was it.  One of the dangers of being with a former boy scout.  Did they even have those in England?

 

Wesley just shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall into the dust at his feet.  The tight T-shirt he wore clung to him, revealing remarkable definition for a man who had once been bookish and weak.  The farther he descended from his once noble life, the better looking he became.

 

Lilah licked her lips as her eyes traveled downward to the still open pants.  The man was half exposed and had no shame.  She shivered pleasantly in anticipation.  Whatever he had planned was going to be good.

 

Wesley stepped close enough to touch her, and did just that.  His hands moved gently down her sides, over her hips, up under her shirt.  Eventually, his ascent was hindered by her bra.  His fingers slipped under the band until they met in the back and undid the clasp.  Her breasts fell free.  Released from their support, they hung heavy against her chest, but not for long.  His hand came forward, cupping underneath, lifting as his thumbs massaged her nipples into prominence.

 

“Jesus,” she gasped as he pinched one nipple and then the other, the slight twinges of alternating pain radiating out pleasurably through her body.

 

As soon as she began to arch into his touch, Wesley abandoned her breasts, hands descending once more to rest lightly against her ass.  He started inching up the material of her skirt with agonizing slowness.  The cool air danced upon her increasingly bare flesh, sending goose bumps dancing over her skin.

 

She clung tightly to the rope binding her hands, trying to center herself.  She would not give him the satisfaction of responding so easily to his touch.

 

Finally in one fluid movement he hoisted her upward, leaving Lilah no choice but to wrap her legs around him.  Hands snaking farther up under her skirt, he stopped, encountering a barrier.

 

“Underwear?” he quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Thought it was time to start challenging you.”

 

“Favorite pair?”

 

“New.”

 

“Pity,” he said.  The comment was followed by the sound of tearing fabric.  His right hand emerged with the strip of green lace.  “Not much of a challenge.”

 

In response, she used the position of her legs to lever him closer, the mixture of leather and flesh sliding pleasantly along her exposed sex.

 

“The least you can do is fuck me,” she stated, her lips whisper light against his.

 

Taking her mouth with his own, Wesley wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.  His free hand went to undo his pants farther, freeing himself.  The velvet head of his cock rubbed tantalizingly along her clit as he moved himself into position before thrusting up and in with little warning and no preparation.  However, between the leather and their back and forth and the general nearness of him, she was more than ready.

 

Realizing that she finally had a small advantage, Lilah began to ride him, using the rope to guide her movements up and down.  He countered her movements, taking control of their kiss once more, moving the battle to two separate fronts.

 

The ringing phone pierced through the foggy haze of passion growing around them.

 

She pulled back from the kiss reluctantly.  “I need to get that.”

 

“Seems to me that you’re already involved with your pet project, what possible importance could that phone call have?” he smirked, leaning in to kiss her again as his hand dug through her pocket.  It emerged with the silver phone ringing jarringly in the silence of the clearing.  Flipping it open, he broke the kiss to speak, “Yes?”

 

He cocked his head, listening.

 

“I’m sorry, Gavin, but Ms. Morgan is a bit tied up at the moment,” and with that he closed the phone and hurled it over the edge of the clearing into the city below.

 

“What in the hell did you just do?  Do you know how much those things cost?” Lilah twisted against her bonds, which only served to move him quite nicely inside of her.  The pleasure was outweighed by her anger at the moment.  She had just gotten that phone!

 

“So attached?” he laughed.  “Any other time you’d be ignoring it.”

 

She frowned.  “Ignoring it is one thing, but tossing it into a ravine is something completely different.  And, as a matter of fact, I was expecting an important call.” 

 

“Ah yes, the timetable of evil.  So stringent these days,” he kissed along her throat, moving lower.

 

Lilah felt her anger begin to drain.  Oh no, he couldn’t win that easily.  Unfortunately, her options for retaliation were quite limited, especially since he was buried deep inside her.  While she was busy deliberating, Wes took full advantage things, slipping a hand between them, his fingers homing in to grind against her clit.  She bucked in response.

 

“You’re off your game tonight, Lilah,” he said.

 

“I’m at a bit of a disadvantage,” she nodded toward her bound hands.

 

“That’s never stopped you before.  But if it’s too much for you . . .” he started to pull out and back away.

 

“Oh no you don’t!” Lilah locked her legs firmly in place.  Right, her one advantage, forgot those.

 

“Well, are you going to be a good girl and play nice?”  He toyed lightly with her clit, just enough to tease her but little more than that.

 

“Do I get a treat if I’m good?” she said archly.  He wasn’t playing nice, why should she?

 

“Only if you’re very good,” he said, smile playing about his lips as he moved in to kiss her again.  His tongue slid along hers with languid ease, taking his time.  As he kissed her, Wesley began to rock his hips with the same slow pace.  It was driving her crazy, the gradual building of friction, but it was better than nothing.

 

She felt him tense inside her far too soon, his head dropping back as he came with a sigh of release.  Lilah was too outraged to do more than wait for him to recover.  The selfish prick.

 

“Bastard,” she muttered.

 

Wesley looked at her, his eyes dancing.  “That was quite inconsiderate of me, wasn’t it?”

 

Lilah just frowned at him.

 

He trailed his hands along her legs and behind his back to unhook her ankles.  He stepped back, putting her back on her own not so steady feet.  Anger, frustration, half-built arousal... He was lucky her hands were tied at the moment.

 

She shouldn’t have been surprised by what he did next, and yet when his hands moved to his pants, carefully tucking himself in before zipping them closed, Lilah couldn’t help the gasp of outrage that escaped from her.  She half-expected him to turn, get on his bike, and drive away, leaving her there tied to the tree unsatisfied.

 

And it looked like he was going to do just that.  He took as step back, but then instead of continuing in that direction, he dropped to his knees before her.

 

She was half-tempted to kick him out of spite, but when his hands slipped up under her skirt once more, all thoughts of such retaliation abandoned her.

 

Her skirt was almost to her hips when he asked, “Will you allow me to make it up to you, Lilah?”

 

She eyed the well-past five o’clock shadow and nodded.

 

He dipped his head, rubbing his cheek up along the inside of one thigh.  The soft scratching along her sensitive flesh caused her to shiver with anticipation.

 

By the time his tongue darted out to delve between her labia, she was more than thankful for the rope binding her.  There was no way she could possible remain standing otherwise.

 

And what a tongue he had.  Alternating between pointed, probing tastes, and flat, firm licks, he had her on the edge of climax in minutes.  His ministrations only grew more frenzied as the minutes passed, as if he couldn’t get enough.

 

His slick tongue mapped out every inch of her sex, teasing along every ridge and valley before plunging deeply into her channel.  And with his coarse beard rubbing against her bare skin...the combination of sensations soon had Lilah shaking with release.

 

He brought her down with soothing laps of his tongue before getting to his feet and smoothing her skirt back into place.  A moment later, he cut her hands free.  They dropped like dead weights around his shoulders, asleep from lack of blood flow.

 

She leaned against Wesley, savoring how solid he was, the smell of leather, sweat, sex, and Wesley overwhelming her senses.

 

“If you ever do that to me again...” she trailed off, too blissed to care anymore.

 

“It’s a promise,” he replied, wrapping his arms securely about her.

 

And she really hoped he kept it.

 

 


End file.
